


In the Sea

by snowmissus (soul_of_blaze)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Several mentions of near-drowning, dwarves are mermaids, mermaid au, merman thorin, not sure if thats going to be a bother to anyone but im going to point it out now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 22:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2444888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soul_of_blaze/pseuds/snowmissus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo had always loved the sea. He'd always felt a tug to it, and sometimes his mother's fairy stories had nearly seemed to cross into the line of reality. But mermaids weren't real.. were they?</p><p>Or in which Bilbo Baggins gets unwittingly pulled into a quest to reclaim a homeland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have been working on this since late July, and I've finally come to a point where I think it's ready to start being posted. 
> 
> The title is a title of a song, In the Sea by Ingrid Michaelson. Basically what ended up inspiring the idea for this fic as well as just my general love of pictures of beaches and the sea. And mermaids. 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys this, this fic has become very close to my heart since I started writing it. And a big thanks to Jonna, for helping me edit this. (As well a giant thank you to currently-into because they have really helped me brainstorm for a lot of this, as well as the art they've already produced for this~)

_The cold splash of water shouldn’t have shocked him as much as it did, after all the sun was not beating down on the small town this early in the morning. Bilbo tried to blink the water out of his eyes, but that was a tad difficult to do when it surrounded him. He opened his mouth and choked, clawing for air, for the surface still very near him. The flick of blue he’d been so mesmerized with caught in the corner of his eye, dark hair billowing about when he turned his head. The glint of frighteningly sharp teeth had him ignoring the burning of his lungs. Opening his mouth to scream, the water flooded him and-_

He startled awake, his mother’s fingers tracing his features. She smiled softly down at him, murmuring something that his tired and muddled brain could not pick up on.

Belladonna’s cool touch had always been Bilbo’s saving grace as a child. It quickly became a reassuring gesture, his mother’s hand on his cheek or pushing his unruly curls away from his forehead. Not that Bungo had never been a loving force in his life, but for Bilbo, his parents sat on opposite sides of a spectrum.

Where Belladonna was more carefree and adventurous, indulging Bilbo in any of him imaginations as a child, Bungo had always insisted on the practicality of life versus fantasy. Bilbo supposed it hadn’t helped that he’d been a wild child, venturing off into the woods and peering into the river. His mother had indulged him freely, something going off with him to look.

When Bilbo had grown up, he’d gravitated toward his more reality-oriented father. His mothers’ whimsical tales were no longer on the front of his mind nor were they all that believable. But he hadn’t lost his move for what his mother had taught him, not by far. Bilbo still was immensely enamored with the beauty nature held.

Which was how he had found himself studying photography, to his mother’s delight and his father’s unsure frustrations. Above all else, Bilbo had a vast fascination especially with the sea.

But he knew very well he owed that particular interest to his uncle Isengar. Belladonna’s brother had visited nearly every sea, and his tales of mermaids were the ones that Bilbo had first picked up as a child. It had been at one of his birthdays that he’d first heard of them.

It was not incorrect for his childhood to be described as odd. His mother would murmur tales of fantastical things until he fell deep into sleep. His father would find him playing in the forest, as though he were searching for elves or such creatures that hid far from him and only ever made their presence known in his dreams.

As a child, he had suffered many scoldings from his father about playing by himself in the trees, furthered by the fact that, as his father would tell him, there were no such thing as elves or the like. _They were tall tales_ , Bungo would sigh out when Bilbo frowned at his father, and no matter how much Belladonna led her son to believe, they did not exist or belong in the real world.  It had long been ongoing argument between his parents, but Bilbo had learned long after that Belladonna’s ‘belief’ stood more for her son’s sake and imagination than the reality of the situation.

However, his one and only tale of merpeople came not from Belladonna, but from her youngest brother, and perhaps Bilbo’s favorite uncle, Isengar.

He rarely visited them for long, always traveling. But he came for Bilbo’s birthday, every year.

“Uncle!”

Isengar grinned as he picked up the small boy, holding him up in the air as the wind ruffled his curls. The Tooks had been blessed, or by some standards cursed, with unruly curling hair. Even if Bilbo had not earned the trait from his mother, the Baggins family had them as well. There would be no escaping it, unfortunately for him.

“Well, there’s my favorite nephew,” he chuckled.

“Don’t say that,” Belladonna chided, walking toward them. “I don’t want Mirabella hearing you, she’ll just bring her boys over here and then you’ll hear no end of it.”

“I’m not lying,” Isengar shifted Bilbo from his arms onto his hip, where the boy clung tighter to his uncle. “I really do like Bilbo more than the rest of our nephews. He’s not a menace, certainly doesn’t try to cause as much trouble as Mira’s boys do.”

“Jago doesn’t act _all_ that bad.”

“But he isn’t as well-behaved as Bilbo,” Isengar set Bilbo back down, turning his attention fully on his sister.

Belladonna aged well, even as the eldest of her sisters she looked younger than the both of them. No one could argue though, that her son was absolutely the spitting image of his father. Bilbo had his father’s eyes, his honey-brown curls and even his mannerisms. His mother had brighter eyes and much darker hair, a trait shared among all their siblings.

Sometimes, Isengar did miss their traveling together, but that was long past.

He felt the tug on his pant leg and glanced down to see Bilbo peering up at him. The excitement practically glittered in his eyes, and he could only imagine what the boy wanted to be told. No doubt, Belladonna had regaled her son with tales of Isengar’s adventures to the sea.

Any proper adventurer knew that telling the story of their adventures was much better than a recount from someone else who had heard it in a brief telling. He hadn’t told his sister all of it because she did not hold as much interest in supposedly mythical creatures anymore.

And Bilbo had always asked after tales, particularly of the sea and what sort of creatures inhabited it.

“What is it, lad?”

“Can you tell me a story?” Bilbo tugged impatiently on his uncle’s pant leg, some of his manners lost in the eagerness of hearing his uncle’s adventures. “Can you tell me about your visit to the seas? Me and Aunt Mirabella’s kids?”

“Why, of course, lad,” Isengar said. “Go on and gather your cousins up, then I will tell you all about the sea and Durin’s folk.”

Bilbo ran from his uncle, disappearing around the side of the large house in search of the rest of his cousins. Isengar knew he would come back with not only Mirabella’s children but Donnamira’s as well, perhaps some of his brothers’ children as well. After all, they were all there and the children all ranged in the same area of age.

Beside him, Belladonna chuckled and shook her head.

“You’d think they wouldn’t be so enthralled with you tramping about the countries and toward the seas,” she mused, looking at him.

“They’re children, they just want to hear about things that their parents will tell them don’t exist,” Isengar sighed, looking at Bungo briefly before shaking his head. “And imagine finding those things themselves. Don’t think you can really blame them, Bella.”

“I wouldn’t,” she shrugged her shoulders. “As a child, I did the same. I only wish I could have gone with you when you went all the way out to the Greenwood.”

“The only thing preventing you from coming with me is Bilbo and Bungo,” Isengar frowned at her. “You have family, Bella, and I don’t ever expect you to leave them for a glimpse of a place that people claim is magical.”

“Well, is it?”

“Hm,” he grinned at her, before turning back as he heard the soft sound of several tiny feet. Bilbo had, in fact, brought all his cousins from the ones that were well older than him to the ones that had to be carried by their older cousins.

“You’ve brought the whole clan!”

Belladonna laughed as she herded them into a circle around one of the chairs out in the yard. They all sat, squirming as if to stay still, even though they were far too excited to do so. Bilbo sat at the front of their group. His mother could only guess that his cousins had declared him their little leader, more so because it was his birthday than anything else.

Isengar made himself comfortable in the chair, crossing his legs as he looked over his nieces and nephews with a grin.

“Bilbo tells me you all want to hear about the sea.”

A chorus of agreement responded, their eager little faces lighting up in excitement. Sometimes, Isengar wished he himself could have such excitement about things but even he had grown out of that phase. Still, he appreciated the beauty of the world and it was why he travelled, but he knew they would not care for it.

What they cared for, were the things few people saw and even fewer truly believed in. If he had not seen what he had in the Greenwood, he would have not believed much of it himself. But you could hardly argue with your own eyes.

“Well,” he dropped his voice low, leaning forward and looking over each of their faces. Bilbo’s eyes were wide, along with several of his cousins next to him and behind him. “Then you are in luck, for, you see, I journeyed far to the sea just recently. The only town near is a beautiful one, called the Greenwood by many who have gone there. It is still far from the sea itself, a journey on foot takes nearly half an hour. But it is worth it, once you see the sea against the horizon.

“The people there, I met them before I went to visit the sea, do not like the sea and refuse to go near it. You see, they believe there are creatures there, in the sea that are maleficent and vicious. I had my suspicions that perhaps these creatures they talked uneasily about were merpeople. When I mentioned the word, they-”

“Mermaids are real?”

One of the girls shouted it, interrupting their uncle and starting up a shriek and giggle among the children as they thought about the possibility of such things as mermaids being real. Isengar cleared his throat in irritation. For his luck, though, with Bilbo at their front, they were more controlled than they would have been on any other occasion. Especially when he turned an upset face over his shoulder.

“Sh!” Bilbo pouted at his cousins. “Don’t you want to hear if uncle saw the merpeople?”

“Mermaids,” mumbled one of the younger girls. “Whoever heard of mer _men_?”

“Don’t lie to the children, Isengar,” Bungo shot his brother-in-law an annoyed look. He must have come by a few moments ago. He stood by Belladonna, frowning.

“As I was saying,” he cleared his throat, sighing. “The people warned me against going to the sea. They said that the people of the sea did exist, but they would kill me if I caught even a glimpse of them. But I would not be swayed, I went anyway. I took my time the way there partly in fear that they were truthful about the merpeople and that I would be met with a terrible fate.”

He paused then, looking around at the children. They were all leaning forward, excitement and a little fear in their faces.

“The sea near the Greenwood is simply beautiful. Truthfully, I did not expect to find the merpeople myself. I did not fully believe the people’s claims that they were there,” Isengar looked directly at Bilbo. The boy’s attention was the one he wanted to capture the most. “But as I looked out over the water, as night drew near, I saw them. It was only a glimpse that was all. I could not describe their beauty or the sound of their voices to you, there simply are no words for it. But they were there, and I want to go back, if to only see more of them and closer. They call them Durin’s folk, if you talk to the people who live there long enough and ask. Say that they’ve lost their home and are searching for it, or some say that it was taken from them and they’re waiting for the person who can help them take it back.”

The children had wide eyes, the entire time and they only grew wider at the end. Together, they started whispering among each other and Isengar grinned.

He made to get up, to walk towards his sister and her husband, but Bilbo detached from the group. He wrapped his arms around his uncle’s leg. Looking up at him, Bilbo could only be described as more curious than he had been before.

“You really saw them?”

“Oh, yes.”

“I’m going to go see them,” he announced. “When I’m old enough, I’m going to go to the Greenwood so I can see the sea and the merpeople!”

“I am sure that-”

“Stop it,” Bungo pulled his son from his uncle, shaking his head. “Bilbo, son, there are no such things as merpeople. Your uncle is pulling your leg, it was just a tale.”

As Bungo tugged his son away, Bilbo glanced back unhappily at his uncle who only sighed and shook his head as he turned back to talk with Belladonna. Neither father nor son saw the frown pulling at her face.

“Did you really see a merpson or was that what you said for the children?”

“I did,” Isengar looked at his sister in disappointment. “I know you don’t believe these sorts of things as much anymore, but I did.”

His sister didn’t respond for a minute or two, her eyes on the children as they dispersed back to playing what games they’d been involved in when Bilbo had wrangled them together.

“How was the Greenwood?”

“They don’t call it that anymore,” he ran a hand through his hair and he saw Belladonna’s frown out of the side of his eye. “They call it the Mirkwood now. I don’t what has happened but not many people travel there and it’s... Had I known how unsettling it was, I wouldn’t have gone at all.”

Hearing her brother talk of it so, only worried Belladonna over things she couldn’t even being to worry about yet. It would worry her much later in life.

 

Her hands were cool on Bilbo’s shoulder, even through his clothing. It was the midst of spring and they stood outside. The rain sprinkled down on them softly as though it understood today was no day to soak the people outside. It made the ground softer and he thought he’d rather sink into the mud than be where they were.

The funeral and visitation had been a quiet affair, and fairly small despite the size of their family. Bungo’s remaining siblings had attended and then, most of Belladonna’s family as well. Bilbo, fresh out of college that past winter, had stood through it all and had yet to cry. Even now, his eyes were turned from where they were all focused. Rain had not been predicted, otherwise they would have planned for a different day.

Still, they lowered the coffin which held his father’s body into the soaked ground. The headstone already sat there, recently made as well. He didn’t need to look at it to know the words, and even if he did he would have memorized them soon enough.

Neither of them, Belladonna nor Bilbo, had taken it well. While Bilbo’s parents were not by any means young, it still seemed far too soon for his father to pass. It had been a small sickness, nothing more but for whatever reason, Bungo had not survived it. It hurt Bilbo’s heart, for he had loved his father deeply. The last words Bilbo had said to his father had not been the best and Bilbo refused to remember them in his mind.

It would be better not to.

Belladonna squeezed his shoulder and he turned his head back to watch as the coffin was lowered all the way in and then the grave began filling in.

Slowly, their family turned around and went on their ways. Many opened their umbrellas as the rain began to worsen and Bilbo sorely wished he’d grabbed his out of their car. Beside him, his mother ducked her head avoid rain in her eyes.

Suddenly, the rain stopped drenching them. He squinted in confusion, for around them the rain had not stopped. Bilbo looked up, staring blankly at the umbrella above he and his mother. Then, he looked to his left and saw Isengar holding out the umbrella over the two.

His uncle, however, was getting soaked by the rain now.

Belladonna smiled slightly at her brother.

“Isengar.”

“Bella,” he said and then gestured for them to move forward. Surprisingly, he easily kept up with them. “How are you doing?”

“As well as I think I am expected to be faring,” she smiled sadly then. “I have Bilbo to take care of me though.”

“Ah, well,” his uncle glanced at him with a shake of his head before smiling happily at her. “So long as you are not all alone in this.”

Bilbo kept quiet, hands stuffed in his pockets as he followed his mother toward the car with his uncle tailing them. He had not seen Isengar in years. His uncle had only visited a very few times between Bilbo’s birthday where he’d told the story and now.

He didn’t know why the frequency of his uncle’s visits had dropped so low but he hardly blamed the man. Visiting your sister and telling her son stories sometimes did not need to be a priority. Althought Bilbo would admit to having missed him at his family birthday parties.

But they had stopped and he had no explanation for it and his uncle never deigned to explain it.

They came to the car and stopped. Isengar did not move away but he did close his umbrella as the rain had let up again and they could barely feel it now.

“I know Bungo probably handed Bag End down to you,” he said, looking at Bilbo first before smiling at his sister. “But I also know how much it’s going to remind you of him. Why don’t you come stay with me for a few months?”

Belladonna nearly looked ready to protest. Bilbo himself felt unsure about leaving Bag End on its own. There was always to be a Baggins in Bag End!

“Just a few months,” Isengar hurried, waving his hand dismissively. “I think it would be good for the both of you to get away from something that has Bungo all about it. Then you can go back, and you’ll be done mourning and it won’t be so bad if you see something that reminds you of him.”

After a moment, his mother sighed and her shoulders slumped.

“I hate to admit it, but you’re right, Isengar,” she smiled slightly, looking at Bilbo. “What do you think, darling?”

“Maybe it would be good,” Bilbo said finally. “Just for a few months.”

“There we are,” his uncle said, clapping the pair of them on their backs. “We’ll move some of your things. It’s not too far away, so you don’t have to worry too much about being far away.”

Belladonna nodded and then turned to murmur directions to their driver. Bilbo decided to head into the car and settle down for what would probably be a slightly longer drive than the one that would have been to Bag End.

But his uncle stopped him with a light hand on his shoulder.

“Lad, there’s something I want to ask you to do.”

Bilbo raised an eyebrow and turned back around, listening to his uncle’s request with a curious ear.

 

“I’ll be _fine_.”

Bilbo pushed his mother’s hands away from straightening his collar for the umpteenth time. It had been a last few stressful days, from his mother’s insistence that she should come with him to Bilbo trying his best to plan for when he arrived in the small country that his uncle had long ago told him of.

Isengar hadn’t been lying when he said that the country was not only small but rather _deserted_. If the tales were true, that there were merpeople along its one coast, then perhaps they had long ago driven the people out and further in land. Except, of course, for the legendary small village of Greenwood and the only town that you could fly into, Rivendell.

He supposed, perhaps in his uncle’s days, that there were more people and easier ways into the country but he would have to go by plane.

And then drive all the way to the Greenwood. Rivendell wasn’t that far from it but he had come to understand it was far enough that many people wouldn’t even try a chance at driving all the way to the Greenwood.

Rivendell had to be beautiful in its own right, Bilbo thought. If he really didn’t want to make a journey into the Greenwood, at least he could snap a few good shots of that place.

“Are you sure? I could go with you, still, you know.”

Bilbo sighed, crossing his arms. He could hear the PA system overhead calling for his flight. Not that many people would be boarding, but he had little desire in being late.

It had been years since his father’s funeral, now, and they were still staying with Isengar. The desire to return to Bag End had become less and less over time. Belladonna seemed unlikely to want to step foot in the house he’d built again. Maybe she would one more time, but Bilbo had a feeling his mother didn’t wish to live there again.

Mostly because she probably wouldn’t be able to handle it. He wasn’t sure he would ever be ready to either.

“Mother, I will be fine, and you are staying here. With uncle Isengar.”

“At least tell me your plans, I want to make sure you remember what you are doing from the moment you get there. It would be terrible if you were to get lost. You know, your uncle Isengar said that-”

“I know,” groaned Bilbo, covering his face. “He said it was easy to, but I will be fine! The plane is arriving in Rivendell around three and I will stay the night there before I drive to the Greenwood. Okay?”

“It’ll have to do,” Belladonna sighed before pulling her son into a tight hug. “E-mail me when you have the chance.”

“I will,” he smiled as he hugged her back, before picking up his bags and walking toward the terminals.

“Oh!” Bilbo heard her call out. “And send me any pictures you take, as soon as you can!”

Bilbo grinned to himself as he waved a hand over his shoulder in her direction, before he completely disappeared from his mother’s sight. It would be a while before he saw her again. Not that he planned on spending too much time in the Greenwood and by the sea, but after a few weeks he wanted to go along the coast. The sea truly was beautiful. Or maybe he just thought so.

Now, though, he boarded the plane and secured himself into a seat. He found himself glad for the window seat he had managed. Ever he would be far more interested in the scenery than anything else. Not even the books he’d brought with him.

Certainly, his father would have been appalled, for Bungo had been a man who thought the only thing that could truly do you any good came in the form of a book. On certain points, Bilbo might not argue but he had come to love the sea more than a book.

It came at a strange time, but Bilbo suddenly missed his father greatly. Despite his general protesting of Bilbo’s love for the sea and photography, for Bungo believed Bilbo had a good way with words as well, their relationship had not been stressed in any way. But Bungo had passed away years ago, leaving Bilbo with his mother who seemed struck by her husband’s death. Bilbo had waited until he was sure his mother would not miss him too deeply when he left.

It had been a promise he had made to his uncle. Now, without feeling as though he might be disappointing his father, he thought it was the appropriate time to go. Isengar had asked him if he would go and see the sea, the Greenwood and take as many pictures as he pleased.

Bilbo didn’t know what he expected to find. Perhaps nothing, but the sea and a beautiful place to be even for a few shorts week. It might be nice for him, just to be somewhere that he had been waiting ages to be.

Uncle Isengar had grown sick a few years after Bungo had died, further driving Bilbo into staying home and away from where he wanted to be. He’d gotten better very recently. The Greenwood and sea had to wait a few more years, but it wasn’t as if there were truly anything _waiting_ for him there.

In Bag End, there hung nearly every picture Bilbo had taken (well, not all of them but the ones his mother and father both liked the most, they were there). He liked walking down the halls, looking over them and closing his eyes to imagine that he stood on the beach miles away from the Greenwood. A splash would be heard, but when Bilbo opened his eyes he would not see anything, whether actually opening his eyes to the hallway or in his mind.

Truthfully, he couldn’t begin to imagine what a merperson might look like.

Bilbo leaned his head against the window, eyes slipping shut. The flight wouldn’t be too long but it was long enough for him to sleep a little. He would be far too excited when he arrived to do anything of the like, at least for a while.

He drifted to sleep, dreaming of the strangest things. When he woke, shaken awake by the flight attendant as she moved down the aisle, he could not remember much of it.

Bilbo knew the dream had something to with the sea, of dark blue eyes and an even darker blue accompanying them but he couldn’t place the darker blue, where it came from or why either of those were slipping in with his dreams of the sea.

Slightly unsettled, but not by much as dreams were just dreams to Bilbo, he collected himself and looked out the window. They were over the sea, but he could see land not too far from there. The sea looked positively breathtaking and he simply looked down at it as they passed over. It was only a little disappointing that Bilbo had never learned to swim, because he might have liked swimming in it.

Despite that, he was still more interested in capturing its beauty as soon as he could. It wouldn’t be too late when he made it into the Greenwood, if he had in fact made sure everything was right. Maybe after he checked in at the small inn…

Soon enough, though, the sea disappeared from Bilbo’s view and he could only see the land. The land from above looked nearly as breathtaking as the sea did. He had his eyes following a line of trees when he saw it. Everything seemed to grow dark along the greenery, and that was all the more unsettling from the dream itself.

“What on earth…” Bilbo murmured, frowning as he sat back.

The plane descended, causing Bilbo to lose focus of the strange land. Ah, well, it wasn’t something he would worry about for now. Perhaps it happened to be a shadow, causing the land to look darker than it was. Bilbo had the tales his uncle had provided him as a boy in his mind yet.

He could only imagine the beauties he would see once he was there.

Rivendell, Bilbo thought as he finally made it out of the tiniest airport he’d ever been in, Rivendell is absolutely breathtaking.

His uncle had said nothing of the sort about it. But then, Bilbo had a feeling his focus had been on the Greenwood and the Greenwood alone. He didn’t mind as discovering the beauty of the small town for himself made his fingers itch for his camera.

But it was still in his bags and he wouldn’t be able to get it out until he had settled himself in at the only inn.

Bilbo found himself nearly lost on the way. Not that he was easily lost, but he kept finding himself attracted toward areas that he wanted to take pictures of. That only pushed him into rushing to the inn. The area that the inn was in Bilbo found to be the most beautiful part of Rivendell.

As he stumbled into the inn he found himself staring into the face of a frankly gorgeous man. If Bilbo were to be more interested in taking pictures of people, he would have definitely wanted a picture of this man.

But he wasn’t and Bilbo grinned at the man instead.

“Hullo!”

“Ah, and you must be Mr. Baggins?” The man came around the corner, holding out his hand for Bilbo to shake. Bilbo shook the offered hand as he lowered his bags carefully onto the ground.

“Oh, yes, this place is lovely, mister…?” Bilbo smiled.

“Please, just call me Elrond and I own this inn,” reassured Elrond, offering Bilbo a welcoming smile. “I also make it my personal mission to greet all my guests. Though I did notice you are only staying for the night.”

“I suppose you don’t get too many visitors out this way,” Bilbo looked around now, taking in the inn fully. “But you are right. I’m only here for tonight and then I’ll be driving out to the Greenwood. Speaking of which do you-”

He cut himself off at the darkening look on Elrond’s face.

“I would not suggest venturing out there,” he said, his voice levelled and the cheery tone gone as though it had not been there in the first place.

“Why ever not?”

“There are very few left who refer to that place as the Greenwood,” the man sighed. “We call it Mirkwood. Its nature is not all that kind as it used to be.”

“Well,” Bilbo said. “I came all this way and I’m not going to turn around. Would you be willing to tell me where I could rent a car?”

Despite the fact that the man had warned him against going, Elrond did nod. Perhaps it was a reluctant nod, but it was one anyway. Bilbo dropped his bags in his room before retrieving his camera. It was likely that he should have e-mailed his mother first but he shook it off.

She’d requested the pictures he took as well, and maybe one larger e-mail with the pictures of Rivendell would be better than two separate e-mails.

What would he even say in the first one? _Dear mum, Rivendell is absolutely gorgeous but I only just arrived so I have little news or pictures for you. Although… I was warned off venturing out to the Greenwood and apparently people call it Mirkwood now? Weird. Also I had a dream on the plane not that you would care, but after that I looked down and the land didn’t look very inviting in certain places._

No, he would keep some of that information for himself. His mother would inquire more about the dream he’d had and then go on to tell him it had to be a sign of something.

Bilbo found the small car rental. Even there, the people were not very cooperative. They rented him a small car, sure, but they were not extremely happy about it. He couldn’t tell if they were trying to be obvious about it or if they just really didn’t like people traveling out to _Mirkwood._

Overall, everything that had been happening pointed him in the direction of not venturing out to Mirkwood and the sea.

Regardless though, Bilbo had only ever wished to look upon the sea his uncle had told him about. As much as his stomach turned, thinking about why exactly the people native to the land were frightened of the sea and the once Greenwood, he couldn’t forego it. Not with the chance so close.

It wasn’t too hard to find several of the places he’d seen on his way from the airport to the inn. But there _were_ several places and he found himself stumbling back to the inn late into the night. Well, at least he had spent his time there doing what he had planned on doing.

He nearly collapsed on his bed from exhaustion. Though he hadn’t done much, spending such time on a plane and then moving about Rivendell for pictures had made him tired.

It was only through a small thought that he bolted up. He had promised his mother that he would e-mail her, and he needed to do that before he fell asleep. With a minor huff, Bilbo pushed himself up and tugged his laptop out of his bag.

Typing out his e-mail, he decided not to inform his mother of the dream. It was _definitely_ odd and he wasn’t even sure that it would amount to anything else. Perhaps it was just his love of the sea, mixed with other things.

_Mum,_

_Rivendell is absolutely gorgeous. The people here are friendly, besides the fact that they don’t seem too keen on letting me go off on my own to the Greenwood. They also keep calling it Mirkwood instead. I don’t know if you know anything about this but.. Well, it’s odd so I will try to keep my head on my shoulders while I’m there._

_I’ve included several of the pictures I took while I was here this afternoon. Not all of them, because I think I took far too many. I will show you the rest when I’m home though!_

_I don’t know how to feel about this land though. Like I said, the people seem cautious about it themselves. While I was flying here, I saw the land on our descent and it was unsettling. I know Uncle Isengar said little of the land he saw, but I’m not so sure he wouldn’t have mentioned such darkness about it._

_But maybe he didn’t notice? He did love the sea the way I have found myself to._

_I will e-mail you when I’ve gotten to Mirkwood, or the Greenwood, or whatever it is being called._

_Bilbo_

It only took a few moments for him to slide his things back in place, flick off the lights and collapse on his bed in a tired heap.

Sleep came much easier than it had in the last few days.

That night, it seemed as though his dream (or what he would have brief remembrance of in the morning) continued from the briefer dream he’d had on the plane. For in the dream, he had fallen into the sea and was drowning.

But it wasn’t painful, perhaps a saving factor from his own mind. Bilbo thought such a thing might be painful, your lungs burning from the need for air. No, he just felt like his eyes were heavy with sleep and that if he shut them he might still feel the heaviness upon him.

But even as in his dreams his eyes fluttered shut, he felt strong hands grip his biceps and shake him gently. The sight of those dark blue eyes greeted him when he opened his against the water. They stared into his, as if searching for something that Bilbo thought he couldn’t provide no matter how hard he tried. Even though he desperately wished to.

To his surprise, as he caught the flick of a tail colored a darker blue than the eyes, a soft pair of lips crashed upon his.

Rather than hinder his breathing, it felt as though his lungs were suddenly granted the sweetest air he’d ever had.

Just as he reached for his savior, a loud sound ruptured and Bilbo startled awake just as he hit the floor. With a wince, he sat up slowly and rubbed at the side of his head. The blankets were tangled around his legs and the pillows haphazardly thrown about the bed.

He hadn’t thought his sleep had been _that_ fitful.

Scrubbing at his eyes, Bilbo grumbled while he pushed himself up to his feet. Well. He certainly had a dream like that in some time. Not that he had ever dreamed of being kissed by a mermaid but it had certainly been _detailed._

The humiliation of his own mind coming up with that though. Not that anyone knew it besides himself, but Bilbo hadn’t ever had a kiss!

Why did he have to dream of it as being kissed by a mythical creature? Not to mention the fact that a kiss saving him from drowning had to be the most cliché gesture he’d ever imagined.

Bilbo pulled himself together before straightening up the room. It wouldn’t do to leave it a mess. At least, he wasn’t the sort of person to leave it to housekeeping. Guests should always be more considerate of others. It didn’t matter if it was their job or not.

He dressed in lighter clothing. As he had come to understand, it actually was quite warm in the area of the Greenwood. He found that a little odd, as they were close enough to the sea that it should have kept the area colder than Rivendell. Double-checking everything, Bilbo gathered his bags up and made his way out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can’t joke about that, Mr. Baggins!” She looked earnest as she turned back into her father’s grip. “Mermaids really do kidnap people and Sigrid said there are books in the library about them.”
> 
> “Ah, I see,” Bilbo grinned at her. “I certainly don’t think any mermaids will be trying to snatch me up, though.”

In the lobby, he nearly ran into Elrond. The man smiled good-naturedly at him but something in his eyes didn’t match up.

“Are you certain that you do not wish to stay here?”

“It’s a generous offer, really,” Bilbo shook his head as he talked. “But as I said yesterday, I’ve already come all this way. I don’t want to waste the opportunity. It’s honestly one thing I have looked forward to since I was a boy.”

“Then I hope you have a good time,” Elrond didn’t sound too pleased but he walked Bilbo out of the inn and toward his rented car. “Mirkwood has a lovely little inn by the name of the Greenwood. My cousin, Thranduil, runs it. They’ll take good care of you while you’re there.”

Bilbo smiled as he loaded his bags into the trunk of the car before looking back at Elrond. He still thought the man was moderately attractive but…

For some reason he didn’t feel it as much. He shook his mind off of it and focused instead on thanking the man for his kindness, including the odd warnings. They may have unsettled him but he didn’t want to seem rude.

“Thank you,” he nodded his head. “I really do appreciate how kind you have been to me.”

“Be careful,” replied Elrond.

It was the only words the man gave him. Bilbo tried not to feel worried about it. What did it matter? Many people believed in myths and tales deeply enough that they found them far too true.

Bilbo... Bilbo didn’t, did he?

He never had before but now he had begun doubting himself. Shaking it off, he instead started the car. There wasn’t really anything to worry about. The dream had been a dream, nothing more than that and he hardly thought dreams had anything to do with the real, living world.

It would be a long hour to the Greenwood, or rather Mirkwood. Bilbo hadn’t thought to bring anything to occupy the time with, but since he was driving there wasn’t much he could do. The silence, though, made it a little more unbearable. For his luck, the car had a small radio system installed.

He turned it on, frowning at the static that bombarded his ears. Of all things, Bilbo particularly disliked the noise of radio static but what worse was the static off a TV.

Keeping a keen eye on the road as he drove, he started flipping through the radio channels. Most were static or silent, as they did not exist or he’d driven too far from their signals to catch anything good. Even a few channels that might have produced music quickly sputtered off into the static noise. With a huff, he flipped through a few more channels.

“… people gone missing..”

Bilbo startled, the motion of turning through the channels forcing him to skip right over the voice. He hadn’t expected it. It took a while for him to locate it again, but he did and only slightly relaxed at the sound of a voice.

Whoever was talking, she had a mildly pleasant voice. Not one of a flat tone, but also not overly eager to talk about the news and the like. He’d always been fairly picky when it came to voices. Having a voice that didn’t grate on the nerves, keeping the right amount of interest in your voice, it just made for a more pleasant listening.

“… although few people have thought to close off the beaches, local business owners think it might be wise. We cannot disagree with that. With the disappearances of not only locales but visitors as well, it would be best that we block people from venturing too close to the sea.”

There was a pause and Bilbo frowned at the radio.

“I myself would at least caution people from spending more than a few minutes at the beaches. It is true that those gone missing were nearly instantly returned, but it is likely a terrifying experience in its own.”

_“Do you have any idea what could be pulling people off the shores?”_

“It’s hardly as if we don’t know. The locales know it as well as the tourists that come here think.”

_“But you know, mermaids don’t exist-”_

“Well, we know what goes on here and we know what we see. If it weren’t so dangerous, I would tell you to go have a look yourself but it’s best if you didn’t.”

He probably hit the radios’ on/off button too quickly and too hard. With one hand rubbing at his eye, Bilbo shook his head and then placed his hand back carefully on the steering wheel. Maybe it would be better if he just drove without the distraction of sound.

It was a good time to think, too.

What had the woman meant? Surely the people of the Greenwood (he just could not wrap his mind around calling it Mirkwood) did not actually believe in such things as mercreatures.

Ones that kidnapped humans only to return them, to boot!

Was he going to be dealing with a small village of class grade nutcases? Goodness, he hoped that was not the case. The man on the phone when he’d reserved a room in the small Greenwood Inn hadn’t sounded anywhere near wacky. No, he might have sounded a bit bored but Bilbo suspected having the job of answering a phone all day would not be the most entertaining sort of job.

Mercreatures. Right. Bilbo squared his shoulders as he continued the drive. To his relief, the drive from Rivendell to the Greenwood mostly stayed to one single, long and boring road. It would keep him from being too interested in the greenery surrounding, at least.

But it also promised a boring drive and he seldom kept awake if something turned down that road. Pun not intended but Bilbo grinned a little to himself anyway.

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t studied mermaids the tiniest bit before he’d left. Truth be told, he was just interested in understanding the myth behind them. It all seemed to stem from such creatures luring sailors to their death. Although further back, some goddess but Bilbo had a feeling they didn’t regard any merperson as their god here.

It also wasn’t hard to take a guess that their general opinion on mermaids or mercreatures was less than positive.

Bilbo had a sinking feeling about it all.

Uncle Isengar had been so believable in his tales, but then Bilbo had been a child when he’d heard them. He doubted, a great deal, that the man had actually been serious!

Why would he come back home if he’d met with creatures of the sea?

Bilbo didn’t think _he_ would.

He sighed, contemplating driving the rest of the way there in silence. It wouldn’t be too bad and he much preferred the quiet to hearing about people being kidnapped. Perhaps he should be more concerned but Bilbo did not want to miss out on the beauty of the beaches. Nor the sea.

It was then that the first trouble started up, although Bilbo had no idea that it would be the beginnings of his troubles.

The car made an odd sound, one that didn’t sound too good. Bilbo frowned, thinking about pulling over but he was also only half an hour from the Greenwood. He glanced around, looking over the car’s dashboard for perhaps any visible signs of trouble.

The gas tank wasn’t anywhere near empty though, and there were no warning lights. Groaning in frustration, Bilbo continued driving in hopes that the sound meant nothing. Just that it was a weird noise, nothing more.

Except, that, if he’d hazard a guess, what little luck Bilbo seemed to have ran out.

He didn’t have to even make a further decision about whether to stop and look for help or to continue driving and hope for the best. The car shuddered to a stop, with Bilbo dropping his head to the steering wheel in frustration. He tried the ignition a few times but it just wouldn’t start and he groaned.

It was a long while before he sat up, uncovering his eyes with a grumble under his breath. Well! He wouldn’t just sit here, not so close to the Greenwood. It was too far to walk but maybe he could call someone from the Greenwood? But first, he’d have to see if his phone had any signal.  

Bilbo sighed unhappily as he looked at his phone. Not only did he not have any signal but no connection to any sort of network. He’d stepped out of the car but that hadn’t helped any.

Brushing a hand through his hair, he leaned back against the car. He supposed he could wait until another car came along but he doubted that would be any time soon. It wasn’t that hard to tell that not many people made their way from Rivendell to the Greenwood.

He kept his eyes on his feet as he contemplated if he should start walking that way or not. Half an hour by car probably didn’t amount to too much longer walking wise. Though, Bilbo had no idea and he covered his face in frustration.

Even the sound of the approaching car engine did little to make him feel better. Bilbo uncovered his face in shock, looking up and away from his feet.

There was a car coming down the road, from the way Bilbo had been headed.

Bilbo had never felt so much relief, in all his life. He just hoped that the car, whoever was in it at least, would stop when they saw him.

And to his relief, they did. He stood up fully, watching nervously as the person made their way out of their car and toward Bilbo.

He started to think that the men here were far too attractive. The man that walked toward him was undoubtedly handsome, perhaps far more than Elrond. It _felt_ like he'd somehow landed himself in an awful romance novel. Bilbo licked his lips nervously. Still, he couldn’t fully find the man all that attractive.

Blue eyes were most definitely on his mind and whoever this man was, as utterly handsome as he was, he had a simpler set of brown eyes.

“Hullo,” greeted Bilbo.

The man smiled friendly at him.

“Are you having car trouble?” He’d forgone any introductions or hellos, peering curiously at the rented car with a small frown.

“Ah, yes,” Bilbo sighed out. “I don’t know what happened but it just died.”

He expected the man to inspect the car more but he only gave it one singular frowning glance before looking back over at Bilbo. Whoever he was, the man looked kind enough.

“I’m afraid I cannot offer you any help with your car,” the man shook his head, frowning before raising an eyebrow to Bilbo. “Where were you headed? Can I assume it was the Greenwood?”

“Oh!” Bilbo smiled in relief. “That _was_ where I was driving. Do, er, I mean to ask if you are headed from there?”

“I was,” the man nodded, before pointing his thumb behind him at the truck. “I live there, actually. If you’d like, I can take you there.”

“Oh but-”

“Please don’t worry about, sir, I would feel terrible if I left you out here on your own,” the man smiled as he talked. “I will send someone to tow your car into the village.”

“Thank you.”

Bilbo smiled quickly, before it faltered. He hadn’t asked the man his name much less told him his own name! How embarrassing.

“I apologize,” he hurried. “I didn’t ask your name or even introduce myself. I am Bilbo Baggins.”

“Bard,” Bard introduced himself, smiling charmingly at Bilbo. He thought, perhaps if he hadn’t been distracted by those blue eyes at the back of his mind, he would have been more charmed by it. “And you have been the small talk of the town as of late, Mr. Baggins.”

“Really?” Bilbo chuckled a little, moving around the side of the car and toward the trunk. At least he had the keys and he could open the trunk so he would have his things. Thank the gods for that.

“Yes, well, we don’t receive too many visitors anymore. At least, not since the disappearances…” Bard’s smile turned into a minor grimace but he took Bilbo’s bags from him and started loading them into the back of the truck. “I assume you’ll be staying at Thranduil’s?”

“I believe Mr. Elrond said that was his cousin’s name.”

“Hm,” Bard nodded. “Elrond is a friendly man, but I should warn you that Thranduil is… not in the same.”

But Bilbo waved it off, sliding into the passenger side of the truck while Bard secured his bags in the back before he too slid into the truck.

As the man adjusted the mirrors, Bilbo noticed the small photo wedged securely in the left bottom corner of the windshield. He might have thought it a safety hazard but it wasn’t as if there was much traffic on this road to worry about. From here, he couldn’t completely make it out but it appeared to be Bard and three children. His children? More likely than not.

It wasn’t necessarily disappointment settling in his stomach because once again, those blue eyes from his dreams steered him off of any sort of feeling like that, but something made him feel oddly sad.

Bard took notice of his staring at the picture there.

“My children,” he said, grinning wide. “Bain, Sigrid and Tilda.”

“They look lovely,” Bilbo smiled softly. He never imagined he’d have any children. “You must be so proud?”

“I am,” Bard nodded, though he kept his eyes on the road. “I may only be a fisherman but they are the joys of my life.”

“And their mother?”

Bilbo winced after he’d said it. The look on Bard’s face said enough, the man wouldn’t have needed to say anything at all.

“She was as lovely as my eldest daughter,” he shook his head. “But one day, she disappeared. Many of the locals believe that a mercreature seduced her and then drowned her. I try my best that my children do not hear those things.”

“Do.. do you believe that?”

“I’m a fisherman, Mr. Baggins, I was born and bred on these waters, and I cannot doubt my own eyes,” Bard looked over at him before sighing. “I have seen the merpeople. You cannot lie about what your own eyes have seen.”

“So the legends are true?” Bilbo watched his face darken.

“Whatever you have heard, I can only confirm that the creatures exist,” Bard said. “I’ve never seen them be out right malicious toward anyone. It’s true they kidnap people off the shores, though I’ve never been witness to that.”

“How can you say that they’re not malicious if they kidnap people?”

“Everyone has been returned, if but a little shocked they were not harmed,” Bard frowned. “Every person but my wife. I do not know what happened to her nor do I truly believe any of the merpeople I have seen were the ones to do it.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are darker forces at hand, I have come to believe,” he drove at a steady pace. Bilbo had expected him at any time to drive quicker but he did not. “That the merpeople the town is used to are not the only mercreatures in the sea. Others, mercreatures that desire to kill, I believe they exist and may have very well been the ones to take my wife.”

Bilbo felt oddly about it all. Mermaids were one thing, but it sounded more like sirens and other far more malicious creatures were at hand here. He would have to be careful when he went to the beaches.

Even the obvious warning Bard had given him would not stray Bilbo from seeing the sea. He almost felt a _tug_ at his core.

“If you all think so badly about them, and know that they are there, then why do you still go out there?” Bilbo fidgeted, his eyes following the tree line. As they drove closer to the Greenwood, thing seemed to grow more desolate. That wasn’t quite right, as there was much vegetation but all of it appeared rather dark.

“We cannot give up living because there are small disturbances in the water. As of late, they have been less bothersome.”

He leaned the side of his head against the window. Outside, despite the fact that it was only about midday, it looked as though night had already fallen. In a sudden change, the road went from its smooth concrete to a rougher road. Bilbo could see, just barely in the darkening light, that they had hit a dirt road.

As he glanced up, he saw a sign nearly covered by leaves and foliage. He could barely read it as they swept past but he managed to catch _reenwoo_ and could hazard a guess that what it meant to be read as was _the Greenwood_.

They’d entered the small town’s limits then, and Bilbo relaxed back against his seat. To his surprise, he was strangely tired and only wished to sleep the afternoon away. A bit ridiculous, considering he hadn’t done anything that day but drive and then sit in a car.

Bard glanced at Bilbo, before clearing his throat.

“It looks like there will be a storm coming,” he nodded at the darkened sky. Bilbo looked up, watching a dark cloud slowly pass over the town. “I would suggest that you stay inside the inn for the afternoon and night. In fact, the storm might be a few days before it truly clears.”

“Oh,” Bilbo frowned in disappointment. It wasn’t as though he wouldn’t not see the sea and beaches. He still wished he could see them sooner.

Bard said nothing else, continuing to drive until he pulled them into a small parking lot in front of what had to be the inn. The sign above the door swung in the wind, but Bilbo caught the words on it as ‘the Greenwood Inn’.

He helped Bilbo gather up his bags, and even though he offered to carry one of Bilbo’s heavier bags, Bilbo only shook his head and hefted his bags. He disliked being a burden to anyone and much preferred taking care of what things he could.

When Bilbo stepped into the inn, he was absolutely floored. It blew Rivendell out of the water. The place had looked fairly gorgeous on the outside but to his surprise, the inside was amazing. Perhaps a better word would be grand.

Although there was a large reception desk that Bilbo found his eyes attracted to, the thing that took up most of his attention was the incredible staircase directly in front of him.

Beside him Bard moved forward and after a moment of staring with his mouth open at the staircase, Bilbo started and stumbled after him. At the reception desk, a bored looking teenager slumped against the desk. He glanced up once, then back down before suddenly standing up and crossing his arms.

“Bard.”

“Legolas,” the man only inclined his head. “Can you make sure Mr. Baggins gets settled in? I’ve got to call a tow truck out, his car died in the middle of the road about half an hour from here.”

“So,” Legolas turned his attention onto Bilbo. “You’re the visitor.”

“Er, yes,” answered Bilbo, hefting his bags up again. “I’m rather tired, you see, so if you could perhaps just show me to my room?”

“Sure,” Legolas sighed a little as he stood.

Bilbo glanced back to thank Bard, but no one was there when he did. His shoulders fell a little. It didn’t necessarily make him feel rude but he always felt better when he thanked people for helping him. Pushing it from his mind, he observed Legolas as the young man led him down the hall. Bilbo wasn’t disappointed he wouldn’t be ascending the stairs, but he did glance back at them as they turned down the hall.

Legolas could not be the owner of this inn. Was he just an employee, then?

To his surprise, when Legolas pushed open the door to his room, the room itself held a grandeur that Bilbo had felt when he’d stepped into the inn. Here he thought he’d just be shacking up in a small, comfortable room.

Far from it, he thought, as he glanced around.

But by far, the large window that nearly took up the wall had his breath stolen for a few seconds. From it, and despite the darkening sky, he could just see the edge of the beach. Well. He had asked for a nice view of the sea, but he had not expected it to be so lovely.

As he dropped his bags onto the bed, too amazed to unpack them right away, Legolas strode in and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You have a veranda too. With the storm headed quickly this way, I wouldn’t suggest using it right away,” he nodded toward the window, which as Bilbo came to realize was actually a wide glass sliding door. “And stay away from the beaches.”

Before Bilbo could voice anything so much as a thank you or words regarding the last thing he’d said, the boy had disappeared. Bilbo frowned a little, but soon found himself unpacking some of his things. He set his laptop carefully on the bedside table along with his phone. On the other bedside table, he set down his camera carefully.

If Bilbo Baggins had any possession he valued over all others, it was his camera.

By the time he had most of what he wanted unpacked, it had grown dreadfully dark outside. It had yet to rain but even from his room he could see the trees whipping about from the force of the wind and the sea rolling tumultuously in response to the coming storm.

He dragged his eyes away from the sea, pulling the curtain over the glass. Not that he didn’t like the sight of the sea but he didn’t particularly like how it looked when it was storming or about to storm.

After connecting his laptop (and phone) to the wi-fi, Bilbo settled onto his bed with his feet under his thighs. He thought of sending his mother another e-mail, telling her of how eerie the Greenwood turned Mirkwood truly was.

But he hadn’t received any response back yet and with a little frown, he began typing up an e-mail instead to one of his friends. Bilbo didn’t have too many but those he did he was close to and they wouldn’t mind hearing from him.

Just after he hit send, there was a knock on his door that startled him into almost dropping the laptop from where it perched on his thighs. He set it aside carefully and stood up, padding softly over to the door.

“Hullo- oh!”

Bilbo smiled nervously at the man that stared uninterestedly down at him. He stood a good deal taller than Bilbo, although that was hardly a feat as Bilbo was quite small in his height. More of a family trait than anything else.

If Bilbo were being truthful, the man looked startlingly like Legolas. They shared the same complexion, the same nearly white-blonde straight hair. Even their eyes seemed to be the same color, a blue that reminded him of his dreams but only because they were blue. The blue of his dreams had been so much different and more comforting.

“Mr. Baggins,” he said. “I apologize for not being here when you arrived, but I was rather busy. I trust my son treated you well enough.”

“Hm? Oh, yes, yes, Legolas, was it? Yes, he was a perfectly fine host,” Bilbo grinned nervously at the man. “This room is outstandingly lovely, I must say.”

“You did say you would like a nice view of the sea and the beaches,” the man rolled his eyes as though it was rather silly of Bilbo to doubt him of anything less. “I am Thranduil, the owner of this inn.”

“Well then! It is a lovely place you have, sir, and I am pleased to be staying for the next few weeks,” he smiled a little more, relieved. “Mr. Elrond has told you about me, perhaps?”

“I received a call from my cousin a few hours ago, if that is what you are wondering,” Thranduil looked about then. Whatever he appeared to be looking for, he seemed satisfied with it as he turned his attention back onto Bilbo.

He had his arm crossed behind his back accompanied by a rather overall disapproving look. Not that Bilbo had been faced with many people who wholly disapproved of him but he also did not think the man’s look concerned him and him alone.

“It’s a pity that the day you arrived here happens to be the oncoming of a storm,” Thranduil said. His voice startled Bilbo. “Storms like this tend to last for a few days. However, you should be able to get around our small town with little trouble. I would not suggest venturing out into the storm if it grows heavy.”

“Oh, well,” Bilbo shrugged. “I don’t mind. I suppose it just gives me an excuse to settle in for the day and then explore the town before I spend the rest of my time looking at the sea through a camera lens.”

The laugh he let out was tense and by the look spreading over Thranduil’s face, none of it had been the right thing to say. Or at least the last part, as Bilbo had an inkling based on the reactions he’d had thus far. Everything everyone kept saying would amount to the same thing, as he had gathered and Bilbo could practically see it working its way over his host’s expression.

“I would advise you not to set foot on that beach, Mr. Baggins,” he said, striding forward. He did not look at Bilbo as he stepped by him. “It would not be deemed wise to do so.”

Thranduil cast him a look over his shoulder before he left the room. Bilbo shuddered at the angered look he’d been given.

He hadn’t even done anything wrong!

Bilbo would not be deterred from taking pictures of the sea and the beaches around the old Greenwood. Obviously, the storm physically prevented him from going out and the weather in itself would be terrible for any photo. When that passed, though, he would be out on the beach. Warnings be damned.

After waiting and making certain that no one else would be interrupting him for the remainder of his afternoon, Bilbo sighed and padded softly back to his bed and along with that, his laptop. It didn’t take too long to find himself back in a more comfortable position.

Despite the fact that he generally disliked social media sites, specifically the ones like Facebook, his mother begged him into making one and occasionally checking it for her and her alone. It had, however, become the one way he could easily communicate with his various cousins. He scrolled through their status updates, rolling his eyes at the more passive-aggressive ones that were obviously aimed at each other. Lobelia, for instance, had levelled one against _him_ but a few hours ago even though he wasn’t even in town and had made no indication he would be online at all.

Bilbo rolled his eyes.

Still, he smiled fondly at a picture of Primula and Drogo, their young son snugged in between them. If any of his cousins would be good parents, they were it. He hadn’t minded at all when they’d declared him the boy’s ‘uncle’ and godfather as well.

He started at the pinging sound of a message.

**Primula Baggins [15:27]**   
_Bilbo!_   
_I thought you were out of the country for a good while._

**Bilbo Baggins [15:29]**   
_I am._   
_But surprisingly, this little inn in the Greenwood has alright wireless. I was just checking things, I don’t plan on being on that much._

**Primula Baggins [15:33]**   
_Well.. Anything interesting? Have you gotten to the beach yet? I know that’s why you went there. Uncle Isengar’s stories, and all that._

**Bilbo Baggins [15:36]**   
_No, unfortunately. I only arrived a bit ago and there’s a storm brewing. The moment the sky is clear you know I will be out there to at least see the beaches if not snap a picture right away. There was something interesting though._

His cousin didn’t respond for a while, leaving Bilbo to scroll down his Facebook until he’d reached older statuses. He checked his mother’s page, shaking his head at all the statuses she had already made in the time Bilbo had been gone.

It wasn’t as if he had been gone that long, nor would he be gone for more than a few weeks.

**Bilbo Baggins [15:51]  
** _Prim? Do you want to hear it or not?_

**Primula Baggins [15:52]**   
_Sorry! I had to put Frodo down for a nap, he was starting to get fussy._   
_Yes, tell me!_

**Bilbo Baggins [15:55]**   
_I’m fairly skeptical but all the locals have been warning me from even going near the beaches and the sea. Not that I’m going to abandon what will obviously be a wonderful photo opportunity, but I’m not sure I like it._   
_They’ve been just warning me off, but one of the locals definitely told me about mermaids._

**Primula Baggins [16:01]  
** _Seriously? Like in Uncle’s stories? I thought they were just stories…_

**Bilbo Baggins [16:03]**   
_Like I said, I don’t know if I believe it. We’ll see, I guess._

**Primula Baggins [16:03]**   
_Oh yes, you better be sure to tell me if they really are real._   
_Anyway, I’m sure you have things you want to do, and I’ve got to keep any eye on Frodo._

**Bilbo Baggins [16:05]**   
_Right!_   
_Well, give my love to Drogo and Frodo._

Bilbo decided after that message that he shouldn’t linger on the site. No doubt, his ruder cousins would work up the nerve and message him before he could log off. And Baggins were nothing if not polite. Lobelia knew that well enough, she’d used it frequently to her advantage. He wouldn’t let it catch him now.

The storm hadn’t started outside yet, which gave Bilbo the perfect opportunity. Before the rain delivered itself from the sky, he could venture out into the tiny town and acquaint himself with some of it. None of the locals he’d met had been too helpful with that, besides warning him off the beaches. Since he wasn’t listening to that advice, he might as well just go about finding his way around on his own.

He could be resourceful!

Still, he thought it would be better if he didn’t chance his thinning luck. After finding a suitable light jacket, Bilbo closed his door behind him and headed out of the comfortable inn without his camera. Into the town, scoping out areas that deserved capturing perhaps but mostly he wanted to find somewhere for a warm drink. Then, maybe if was lucky, there would be a library of sorts. Truth be, he had become interested in the past of the Greenwood turned Mirkwood and any myths involving mercreatures based in the area.

To his relief as he stepped outside, and noted the absence of Legolas from the reception, right across the road there sat a cozy looking café. From where he stood, he couldn’t make out what it was called. Even as he approached the sign did not become easier to make out. As he figured, it looked rather old and worn, as though it had been here quite a long time.

The café certainly held up to its outside looks with the inside atmosphere. As Bilbo stepped inside, he could hear the tinkle of some woman’s laughter and the conversing voices of several villagers. He caught the eye of Legolas, who sat with a pretty red-headed girl. She looked like she’d spent all her time outside, her skin dark but obviously from the sun. Neither of them gave him more than a slight look, the type you’d give anyone who’d walked into a place of establishment.

“Can I get you anything?”

Bilbo startled, turning around and staring at the young man at the counter.

The young man, truthfully was more a boy. Bilbo thought he must have been a teenager working summer shifts before school came back in session. There was a faint recognition as he looked at the boy and he tried to work it out, but he couldn’t.

He tried to reassure himself that sometimes people just looked familiar. It was no matter to worry himself over.

“Sir?” The boy frowned at him.

“Sorry, sorry, yes,” Bilbo smiled warmly. At that, the boy’s frown relaxed into a more controlled, friendly expression. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any tea, have you?”

He shook his head, confirming what Bilbo had thought. It dashed his hopes a little. He knew he should have brought tea with him.

“Ah, well,” he sighed. This time, he looked up and scanned over the old menu that rested on the wall above them. Of course they had coffee, he grumped to himself, but no tea. Bilbo Baggins would not settle for _coffee_ over tea. “Then I will just have a hot chocolate.”

The boy nodded, ringing him up before turning and Bilbo saw a small girl as the boy instructed her on what she needed to make. He hadn’t noticed her before, but she only stood a few inches over the counter. He felt sympathetic for her, his short height causing many such problems.

Within a few minutes, he had warmth in his hands as he headed for one of the few free tables. Now that he could look around as he sat, the café had a decent amount of people in it. Bilbo knew they were all locals, but then he had to wonder if the Greenwood received many visitors anymore.

The way people had been talking, it didn’t seem like that.

Bilbo resigned himself to drinking his cocoa and people-watching. His mother had taught him to do it, more of a time-waster than an actual activity he enjoyed. He must have spent a few hours like that or perhaps little time at all, as the rain seemed sudden and abrupt.

It was amazing, how the people in the café heard the rain and one moment later were fretting and filtering out of the café. Bilbo wondered about that too.

Why didn’t they wait it out?

Perhaps they knew it would grow heavier, and it was wise for them to make it home before it grew so bad that they were stuck in it for the night. Distracted by his thoughts, Bilbo jumped a little when a voice broke through his pondering and a hand touched his shoulder.

“Mr. Baggins.”

Bard stood there, retracting his hand and offering a friendly smile. Beside him stood the boy and the small girl who’d been behind the counter. Seeing them together, Bilbo made the connection he’d missed when he’d seen the boy earlier.

He must be Bain, Bilbo thought before looking over at the little girl clinging to Bard’s hand, and one of his daughters.

“Ah, hullo,” he smiled, standing up. “Are these your children?”

“Oh,” Bard looked at his son first, then his daughter. “Yes, well, two of them. Bard and Tilda. Sigrid works at the library during the summers.”

“So there is a library,” Bilbo muttered to himself, or so he thought but he saw the other man frown.

“There is,” he nodded and then glanced out the window. “You should be heading back to Thranduil’s place. You _are_ leaving?”

“Goodness,” he grinned. “I wouldn’t want to be stuck here all night and it seems as though the rain will only grow worse.”

“And quickly,” Bain added. “You shouldn’t even think about going back out once you get back.”

“He’s right,” Bard said. “The storm will quickly turn for the worse and the tide can roll in high during these types of storms. You won’t want to be out here for that.”

“What for? Are the mermaids going to try and kidnap me?”

The amused look on his face faltered at the frown on both Bard and Bain’s face, although Tilda only giggled a little before letting go of her father and tugging on Bilbo’s sleeve. After an unsure moment, Bilbo knelt down to her.

“You can’t joke about that, Mr. Baggins!” She looked earnest as she turned back into her father’s grip. “Mermaids really do kidnap people and Sigrid said there are books in the library about them.”

“Ah, I see,” Bilbo grinned at her. “I certainly don’t think any mermaids will be trying to snatch me up, though.”

“It’s still not safe,” Bard argued.

Not that Bilbo would have argued at all, no, he preferred the warmth and comfort of a warm bed over the rain and puddles soaking into his shoes.

From his room, he could just barely see the sea rolling in angrily. Though he couldn’t explain it, it made him uneasy and he pulled his curtain back into place so as to keep it from bothering him. That night, he had the same dream he’d been having as of late. But that night, no such rescue came for him. In his dream, he drowned and sunk to the bottom of the sea with no hope in sight of him. He woke gasping for air that he hadn’t lost.

Though the storm had breaks, there was very little he could do between these breaks. The winds whipped about dangerously and he kept it at the back of his mind that the tide did seem unusually high. Instead, Bilbo focused on making his way to the library.

He had hoped, honestly, that there would be answers in the books that held the town’s history.

But to his consternation, there was very little that gave him any straight answers. Even though Sigrid tried to help him find the most accurate books, each answer he found held the same added afterthought: there was very little proof that any of these things had actually happened.

Certainly, people had disappeared over time but they’d always come back. No mermaid tales had ever detailed that before. Perhaps, he’d read in one book, these people just fell into the sea and found their way back safely, but suffered from sea madness.

Bilbo didn’t like to think that but there was little else to go on. He couldn’t expect much. Sigrid apologized for his disappointment, but he waved her off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this earlier today but then I went to see a friend's concert (which was amazing, and also there was a harp, and I super love harps). Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Always, thanks to Jonna. (and my tumblr is thorinbruhkenshield)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letting his eyes slip shut had to be the mistake, he’d think later but for now he only closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmed water and the slight wind against his face. He felt a brush against his ankle, something that was not water but in his mind he didn’t register it and then, very suddenly, a hand wrapped tightly around his ankle.
> 
> His eyes flew open and he shrieked, shaking his foot in fright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!!! I am just going to say this chapter is a bit shorter but it is also considered a big chapter event-wise so there is that! 
> 
> Enjoy!

The storm cleared after two days of drenching the town and pulling the sea in close. He’d spent nearly the entirety of those two days in the library for his curiosity over the subject could not be sated with vague answers and tales. It was time he took it to the source itself.

He tried his best to excuse it with the fact that he’d always been planning on photographing the beaches and sea.

The sand felt soft under his feet as he walked, letting it work its way between his toes. It had only just dried, warmed slightly by the sun but not to the point that Bilbo would have been hopping across the beach when the sand scorched him.

No one else stood on the beach, nor walked too close to it. All of the roads in the Greenwood were dirt and stone, but Bilbo had noted in interest they had one singular sidewalk that ran through the town. He had also noticed that while they used it all through town, no one walked on it when it ran parallel to the beach. While he understood caution, it seemed to him that they were all a bit too cautious about this whole ordeal.

Bilbo sat his things down on an old bench at the area where grass and beach met, straightening up and stretching out. His nightmares had only worsened and he hoped that with the storm gone, he could sleep peacefully again. Most of the time, he couldn’t sleep after a nightmare had woken him back up.

Whether from fear of having it again or because he simply could not fall back asleep, Bilbo did not know but it annoyed him to no end.

He paused, ears working out the sound of a splash from the water behind him. It wasn’t the sound of the waves crashing pleasantly onto the shore. No, Bilbo could definitely tell the difference between crashing waves and what sounded like someone swimming.

Whipping around, fingers clenching reflexively on his camera Bilbo looked out across the relatively calm sea. Nothing. There was no one and he could see no disturbance on the water’s surface that was not a wave.

After a long moment of staring suspiciously at the water, he relaxed his shoulders. Honestly. He needed to stop feeling so paranoid. Nothing in the water would be out to get him, at least not while he was on shore and far away enough.

Besides, he couldn’t swim to save his life and he wouldn’t be chancing that anytime soon. Bilbo Baggins did not have a death wish.

He quite liked his life, thank you very much.

Ignoring the feeling in his chest that he also felt in his stomach, Bilbo went ahead and started taking pictures. Not only were the beach and sea beautiful, they both came out well through his camera.

Every so often, though, there’d be a splash that caused Bilbo to falter as he took a picture. Whenever he looked out, he still would see no sign that there was actually anyone out there. Of course, he tried to reassure himself, it could just be some fish.

Certainly not merpeople, at least. It was silly. _Very_ silly to think that.

Bilbo found himself well into the late afternoon before he actually felt satisfied with even a few of the photos he’d snapped. It was going to be a long time coming, to get the best shots he could. At least it would have been, were it not for the fact that he was interrupted.

Just as he heard yet another splash, and really this was starting to aggravate him, he stumbled back at the sound of a voice. A pair of voices more like, but it caused him more grief when one of those voices happened to be directed at him.

“Mr. Baggins!”

Bilbo turned his head, his eyes catching what he thought to be a rather large fish tail but _no_ , that couldn’t be right at all! Even as he attempted dragging his eyes back to check for sure that they were merely playing a trick on him, his attention was still snagged back by the people approaching him.

Immediately, he recognized Legolas although he was dressed far more casually than he had been in his father’s inn. Beside him strode the girl Bilbo had seen him with when he’d been at the café the first time.

“Yes, what is it? I’m a bit busy, as you can see…”

“You shouldn’t be out here,” remarked Legolas, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked very disapproving, but Bilbo didn’t feel all that threatened or disapproved of.

“I see no issue. I’m just trying to take some pictures.”

The girl quirked up an eyebrow before glancing at Legolas. To Bilbo’s surprise, he actually looked more than a little peeved that Bilbo didn’t take his words to heart. Whoever the girl was, she seemed to decide on something before speaking.

“As much as I wish I could say against him, Legolas is right,” she smiled smallish at Bilbo. “The beaches are far more dangerous just after storms. You shouldn’t be out here, neither should we.”

Bilbo sighed. She sounded so reasonable and he knew he’d gotten about all the good shots he could for the day. Perhaps he would come back later tomorrow, try and catch some of the sunset shots instead. There might be less disturbance too.

“Oh, very well,” he nodded and then let them follow him as he gathered his shoes and bag before all three of them walked back into the town. It was not a long walk, but he still felt as though it took a good while to get there. “Sorry,” he said, catching the girl’s attention. “I’m afraid I did not catch your name.”

“Tauriel,” she said but nothing more than that.

“I am Bilbo Baggins,” Bilbo introduced himself with a small smile.

Tauriel only chuckled a bit nodding her head as they walked. “I know who you are, Mr. Baggins. The town is small enough and such words travel fast here. I don’t live here but I spend enough time in the town to hear enough and know enough.”

They continued talking, as it turned out that Tauriel too stayed in the Greenwood Inn and all three of them were headed there anyway.

Bilbo found quickly that he liked this young woman. She had the same interest in the sea, perhaps not exactly the same but she too appreciated it. And as they talked he learned that she was a marine biologist. He watched to ask her more but he wasn’t quite sure if she would know anything about the merpeople.

She might not even be here for that and he didn’t feel like making a fool of himself.

Legolas stayed quiet the entire time, though he kept glancing back behind with a small frown on his lips. Bilbo supposed that if such tales were part of the history of his hometown, he might be cautious about being around the sea. But they weren’t and he had it in his mind that he would at least snap more and better pictures over the next few days. Especially as it cleared, the sand would look nicer and feel warmer under his bared toes.

Without a storm gloom looming over the town, the people were out and about. Everyone appeared to be going about their days fairly normally and none of them looked as though they were dreading another storm. He guessed that storms didn’t come in groups, furthered by how long the storm itself had been.

That was a relief.

When they arrived back at the inn, Legolas slunk behind the desk and leaned against it. Tauriel stopped, hands on her hips as she mumbled quietly to him about something. By the time Bilbo made it to his bed, dragging his still bare feet over the soft carpet, the sun had nearly set over the sea. Pausing from immediately flopping onto the bed in exhaustion, he pushed open the glass door and stepped out on to the veranda.

The air brushed his skin warmly, welcoming still. He leaned comfortably against the railing and took a few shots of the sunset dipping into the sea. The colors mixed beautifully, or at least Bilbo thought so. He ended up standing there with his eyes closed until the sun’s warmth no longer heated his face. Even the moon looked brilliant far above the sea.

Yawning, Bilbo went back inside and closed the door quietly behind him. He thought about closing the curtains too but it happened to be such a beautiful night and the slight light of the moon felt comforting. Besides, the sea looked far more peaceful when unaffected by the storm.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when his dreams came that night. It happened to be the same dream he’d been having since he’d arrived in the country. Except this time, it started out before he was in any water.

Bilbo stood on the beach, looking down at his toes wiggling through the warmed sand. The sun must have just set, he thought, for it was dark but everything felt warm. He jumped when he heard a splash from the water. Looking out over the water, he could not _see_ anything but the splashes were filling his mind.

Something called out to him, not in his ears but he felt an odd tug from deep within.

Before he knew what had happened, he found himself waist deep in the water with his clothes clinging to his skin. Something brushed past his legs and he shuddered, but yet he took another step. Then another, until he could no longer stand for the water was too deep for him.

Then, he seemed to slip or perhaps something had pulled him under. He could not tell but the surprise of it had him gasping for air. It was stupid of him, really, as the water nearly eagerly flooded his lungs.

Surely, he would drown but a hand wrapped around his middle. Bilbo forced his eyes open, looking around in the hazy water and locating a face but he could not see it well. There wasn’t much else for him to think, his mind felt heavy and he barely registered the lips on his, the mouth forcing his open…

Bilbo startled awake, his legs tangled in the sheets and halfway on the floor.

Outside, the sun had begun to rise above the sea. For a moment, he simply lay in the awkward position and looked out the glass door.

It was beautiful.

Well, the day seemed nice at least. If it happened to be a little colder outside, he could always grab a jacket or sweater before he left. Rubbing at his face, he slid the rest of the way to the floor and fought his way out of the blankets.

After a small breakfast, unusual for him but he didn’t feel all that hungry and the only thing that looked appealing happened to be a cup of tea and a bagel, Bilbo tugged on a sweater and fetched his bag as he stepped outside.

While the beach was inviting, he wanted to do some other things before he went there. It ended up that he spent too much time in the library, bent over books about mermaids and other such creatures. To his surprise, there appeared to be two types of mercreatures that were described by people.

Sigrid sat down with him about two hours after he’d arrived.

“There _are_ two types,” she answered when Bilbo asked. Her mouth turned down into a frown. “Da says he’s seen both. We all refer to that kind,” she paused and pointed at the human-looking mermaid. “We call them merpeople. The others… we use _Noegyth Nibin.”_

“Noegyth Nibin?” Bilbo’s tongue did not like the words, but he formed them well enough.

“That’s what the original settlers of the Greenwood called them, anyway,” Sigrid shrugged. “Apparently, they’re far more violent and most of us believe they’re responsible for drowning humans. They also don’t look very human at all.”

He looked down at the book again. It was true, that type of mercreature did not look very human and in fact looked rather unkind. At least the mermaid had been sketched into the book with a smile, a friendlier appearance than its less than humanoid counterpart.  

“Why are you looking this up, anyway?”

“I was just curious,” Bilbo said, smiling nervously. “That’s all. I’d heard about them, and I do like researching tales and myths.”

Sigrid only shrugged again and turned her head.

By the time Bilbo made it back out of the library, the afternoon had waned on. Before too long, it would grow dark. He shook his head to himself, walking at a quick pace to the beach. The afternoon sky had a gorgeous color, playing well on the calm, small waves. It sparkled invitingly at him and Bilbo wished again that he could swim even a little.

He toed off his shoes by the bench and dropped his bag onto it. When he reached into the bag, a frown worked its way onto his face. After several minutes of searching he gave up. He’d forgotten the camera after all.

In the rush of the morning, he must have left it charging and he hadn’t thought to check the bag before he went from the library to the beach.

And if he went back to the inn, certainly they’d tell him not to go back out to the beach or perhaps even try to stop him. Bilbo sighed, suppressing a more annoyed sigh before deciding instead to walk along the beach and scope out more places to capture.

A little ways down the beach, he paused by a dock. It was older, and he wouldn’t be surprised if it hadn’t been used in some time. He worried at his lip as he looked around. The whole way he’d been walking, he had heard the same splashing he’d heard the day before. He had to figure it was only fish, perhaps, nothing more.

Bilbo stepped onto the dock. It was warm, nearly too warm for his feet but he ignored it in favor of walking slowly towards the end of the dock. He could stick his feet into the water and the waves were calm for now. As he sat down, easing himself a bit, the water rippled but he ignored it and dropped his feet into the water.

He sighed in content. The water was cooler than the dock, but fairly warm as well and it felt nice lapping up against his ankles.

Letting his eyes slip shut had to be the mistake, he’d think later but for now he only closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmed water and the slight wind against his face. He felt a brush against his ankle, something that was not water but in his mind he didn’t register it and then, very suddenly, a hand wrapped tightly around his ankle.

His eyes flew open and he shrieked, shaking his foot in fright.

The hand squeezing his ankle looked mostly human but there appeared to be some sort of webbing between the fingers. Bilbo’s heart beat hard as a head rose from the water, but he could not have been as frightened because the mercreature’s hair clung to their head and face before they pulled it away with what looked like a frown.

It only took a moment for Bilbo to realize that this mercreature was a merman as he blinked and then squinted up at him.

Behind him in the water, Bilbo caught the flick of the end of a tail every so often. He kicked his foot again, lightly and frowning down at the merman.

Certainly, he hadn’t believed in the tales but here he was, staring at a merman who had his fingers tightly on Bilbo’s ankle and refused letting go. He could feel his heart beating rapidly and he felt rather faint.

“ _Shuklûn_ ,” he said. Bilbo frowned, not understanding the word at all but before he could even open his mouth, the merman continued. He babbled on, in words that Bilbo had no grasp on. He seemed adamant about something at least.

Before he could think about it, the creature flashed him a grin and that was that. The sight of teeth so sharp, like a shark’s…

Bilbo felt the world tilt, the air rush past him and before he could mumble more than ‘ _Oh dear’_ he’d hit the dock. Everything went dark.

The world came rolling back around in the sound of several voices, all mashed together so that Bilbo could not understand them at first. But they cleared and he relaxed from where he’d tensed when he’d woken up. Though he did not open his eyes at first, he could feel that he was on a bed (one that felt like his in the inn) and a slight cold that most definitely came from air conditioning.

Deciding then that he was somewhere safe, Bilbo opened his eyes.

To his left, Bard sat and Thranduil stood beside him. They had quieted their talking when Bilbo stirred awake fully but they appeared to be arguing still. He turned his head and registered Tauriel and Legolas standing there. Neither were talking but Tauriel smiled slightly at him when he looked at her.

“Well,” Thranduil said, bringing Bilbo’s attention back to him. “You certainly gave us a fright, Mr. Baggins.”

“Ah, well…” He furrowed his brow in confusion as he sat up. “Sorry, what happened?”

“You were missing for a while,” Tauriel stepped in. “We grew concerned when the sun set and you still hadn’t come back. I went looking for you. I don’t know what happened but I found you knocked out on the dock towards the end of the beach.”

“Hm,” Bilbo murmured, glancing down at his knees. “I saw,” he started but then backtracked immediately.

How could he be sure that had happened? He couldn’t! They wouldn’t let him go back and see for sure, if they knew.

“What?” Bard had stood up.

“Oh, I thought I saw something but I’m remembering that I had a small breakfast this morning and didn’t eat lunch,” he looked up, smiling weakly. “I suppose I might have been out in the sun too long and fainted.”

At that, both Bard and Tauriel relaxed. Though Thranduil looked unsure of his claims, he gestured for Legolas to bring Bilbo dinner.

Eventually, Bilbo found himself alone with the inn owner. He stood, looking out at the beach with a scowl on his face. There hadn’t been much emotion on the man’s face the last few days but today, he seemed full of it.

He ate his dinner in silence, running over his thoughts repeatedly. He would have to go back to the dock, by himself, of course, and he wouldn’t bring anything. That would hopefully keep him from being found right away.

Bilbo would not faint this time!

If what he had seen had even been true, that was.

“You should stay in tomorrow,” Thranduil interrupted, turning away from the door and looking at Bilbo. “I mean it, Mr. Baggins. It would be best for you. Take a day to yourself.”

“Oh, er, yes,” Bilbo offered him a small smile. “I shall.”

“Good,” the man said, nodding his head. He said nothing else, lingering a little longer before disappearing from the room and down the hall.

When Bilbo woke the next morning, it was later than he normally would have. He felt entirely too groggy and he even contemplated just staying in the whole day. But it came to him then that he’d had no dreams the night before and he wanted to know the truth.

Surely, he could not have been imagining that. It had felt real and he could still grasp the feeling of the merman’s fingers curled tight around his ankle.

For the time being, he ate his breakfast as he normally would have (rather large) and then changed into a comfortable outfit. He stared at his camera for a good while before sighing. No, he’d thought it best if he did not take his things with him and he wasn’t sure that any mercreature would want their picture taken. With that, he left his phone too.

“Alright,” Bilbo murmured to himself before looking at the glass door and veranda. If he went out through the front of the inn, he’d be caught. He’d have to leave through the glass door. When he came back, he could always lie and say he’d left his key inside his room without thinking about it.

He stepped out on to the veranda. For a moment, he feared he would have to hop over the fence but to his relief there was a gate not too far from him. Bilbo sucked in a quick breath, pushing it open and then quickly jogging across the grass and onto the sidewalk that ran along the beach’s end.

Before him, the sea crashed against the sand. The waves today seemed larger, the sea less calm but… Bilbo could not explain it but he felt the pull in his gut stronger.

Carefully, he took off his shoes and hid them under the bench. The sand under his feet had warmed considerably since the day before and the morning sun glared at him as he headed down the beach. Far from him, he could see the people of the Greenwood going about their days. They wouldn’t look at the beach, they rarely did and they would not see him.

3He breathed in, pausing before the dock. This time when he’d walked down the beach he hadn’t heard any splashes. No, he’d even watched the water cautiously as he walked but he’d seen nothing. Not even a wink of a tail or the water splashing up differently from the waves.

“Bilbo?”

He jumped and whipped around, staring wide-eyed at Tauriel as she approached.

“What are you doing here?”

“Nothing!” Bilbo bit his lip, but she only stared at him. “Nothing, I just...”

“You know, I don’t believe you when you told Thranduil and Bard that you’d fainted because of a light breakfast and no lunch,” she stepped forward, looking out over the water. “There is something more to why you did. Isn’t there?”

He sighed, dropped his head down for a moment before nodding. There was really no point in trying to make up an extensive lie. Not when she seemed ready to prod him until he gave in.

“I saw something,” Bilbo worried at his lip, tucking his hands behind his back. “I came back to see if what I saw was real or not.”

“It was a mermaid, wasn’t it?” She’d stepped close now, her eyes wide.

“I... I... yes,” he nodded. “I saw a mermaid, rather a merman, but he frightened me so badly that I fainted. I am certain that the lack of food also contributed to that but...”

“You really did?”

At that, he glanced up and blinked. “I did. Why?”

Tauriel turned her head, looking out over the waves before back to Bilbo and smiling at him. “That is why I am here. The mercreatures are the creatures I’ve wanted to study for some time. I had heard the Greenwood had the most encounters with them, so if anywhere was going to have them…”

“But you haven’t seen any?”

“No,” Tauriel shook her head, frowning then. “I have not. But it’s hard to frequent the beaches when both Legolas and Thranduil seem to keep close eyes on me. I had feared that perhaps there were no such creatures here. Or at all.”

Bilbo turned his head, looking out of the waves. He did not look back at Tauriel. “I’m still not quite sure if I really saw him or not, but I feel as though I did.”

When he did finally look back, she had simply disappeared. He looked around and then caught Tauriel’s back as she walked up the sidewalk and back toward the inn. Bilbo knew she would not say anything about him being on the beach to anyone.

Eventually he worked the courage back up and walked the rest of the way to the area where he’d seen the merman the day before.

Bilbo stood on the edge of the dock, frowning down at the water. He lifted his gaze up to the sky with a sigh. Perhaps he’d really only been out of it and after spending time pouring over books about them, why should he be surprised if he’d imagined up a merman?

“ _Shuklûn_.”

“Yes, yes,” he grumbled, frowning up at the sky. Then he froze, dropping his eyes down to look at the sea. There, frowning and just above the water, the merman had his hand clinging to the dock edge near Bilbo’s feet. “Oh!”

The merman tilted his head, babbling something in his language again.

“You _are_ real,” Bilbo said, grinning as he dropped to his knees. The merman startled in the water, but didn’t move away only leaned back with a frown. “I’m glad I’m _not_ crazy.”

He guessed the merman replied, but he couldn’t understand him. Bilbo frowned, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“This is rather unfortunate,” he sighed. The merman continued talking, gesturing at Bilbo and then at the water. Whatever he was saying, it seemed to be of importance to him and all of it was rather long. “You should stop talking, honestly, can’t you tell we don’t understand each other?”

Bilbo quirked an eyebrow up as the merman paused, eyes narrowing and squinting up at him. He said something again, and when Bilbo continued frowning down at him with no reply the merman stopped again. They sat like that for some time before the merman pointed at him.

“ _Bashk_ ,” he said. It was the only word that he managed to understand or at least make sense of considering he had no idea what it meant, because then the merman started talking quickly again and Bilbo scowled at him.

“I can’t understand you!”

The tone of his voice must have been understood, as then the merman quieted again and tilted his head at Bilbo. For a moment, he thought they’d be sitting in silence again but then before Bilbo could even think of much of it, the merman opened his mouth.

And sang.

Oh, and Bilbo had never heard anything more beautiful than this creature’s voice. Had he more sense, he might have thought of the fact that sirens did such things to seduce sailors into waters and drown them. But all he could think about was how lovely the voice was and that he wished desperately to be closer to it. The tug in his gut had gone to his chest. Where he’d been sitting on the dock, he shifted and crawled forward enough to slide his hand over the merman’s hand. He looked into the merman’s eyes, marveling at the gorgeous, dark blue color in them. Something in him shocked at the familiarity but he could not push it through the haze in his mind.

A hand slid up his arm, curling around the back of his neck. He felt the other hand do the same, could feel the pair of hands crossed over the back of his neck and felt them tighten. The merman pulled him closer, his voice lulling Bilbo forward and all he wanted to do was listen and curl into the creature.

In that moment, it was all he could ever have craved in his life.

The arms around his neck secured themselves more and before he could think about it, for his mind focused purely on his voice, the water swallowed him up. The merman’s voice abruptly left his mind and he shrieked when he realized that he was under water.

Perhaps a bigger mistake of his, as water rushed into his lungs the moment he sucked in what he’d been thinking would have been a breath.

Before much could happen, such as drowning, the hands around his neck loosened and held him closer. Bilbo felt a pair of lips press against his and when he dazedly opened his mouth to protest that, the mouth closed over his. Or _rather_ , the merman’s mouth covered his in a kiss.

He gasped, hands latching onto the merman’s arms. Not that he’d never been kissed (though he had not) but this kiss felt far more intense than any other kiss. It felt as though life flowed through him, his lungs did not burn or hurt as though he needed air, no, and he no longer felt dizzy from lack of oxygen.

The merman pulled away, letting go off him and then peering curiously at him while Bilbo blinked and felt an odd sensation at his sides.

Running his fingers over his side, and ignoring the fact that the merman stared blatantly at him, he startled when his fingers touched slits in his side.

They had to be _gills_.

“ _Bashk_ , are you alright?”

Bilbo stared at him, opening his mouth and then closing it. Excluding the first word he’d uttered, Bilbo had understood the other words perfectly fine. Okay. Okay, he could breathe underwater and understand a merman.

Did the _kiss_ do that?

“I.. uh, yes, I’m fine,” he managed and watched as the merman stopped frowning. His neutral expression, though, was not much friendlier than his frown. “What does, whatever you called me, what does that mean?”

“ _Bashk_?” When Bilbo nodded, the merman frowned again. Out of the corner of his eye, Bilbo saw his tail flick. It was a beautiful shade of dark blue, though it glimmered other hues and shades of blue, that particular blue happened to be its main color. “It is an ancient word, you cannot understand it even though I gave you the understanding of my language.”

“Right, so the kiss…” he muttered.

The mermaid gave him a confused look. Bilbo looked him over again. Strapped to his back, he noticed, there was a dark trident. His hair flowed freely about him, though it was mostly dark it had streaks of silver through it. How odd. On his sides, Bilbo saw much larger sets of gills than the ones that had developed on his own neck. They fluttered every so often as the merman breathed.

“I have a question.”

“I imagine,” the merman said, swimming closer to Bilbo and looming over him. His next words sounded annoyed. “Since you could not understand me before, I will have to explain everything to you _again_.”

“Right, well, I’m not concerned about that right now,” Bilbo said, crossing his arms over his chest. That didn’t make the merman look very happy. “I want to know who you are.”

“I am Thorin,” he said, his face relaxing a little. Bilbo wondered if Thorin could at least try to look a little nicer. “Some call me Oakenshield. I am the son of the once King Thráin and grandson of the once King Thror.”

“Son of the…” Bilbo glanced up then, nearly shrinking back. “Does that make _you_ king?”

How frightening, he thought but then Thorin’s face darkened.

“No, I am yet to be king,” he turned his head as if he’d heard something before he turned his gaze back onto Bilbo. “This is why I have much to explain to you, _bashk_ , now come, we have a long journey ahead of us.”

With that, he turned and began swimming off. Bilbo watched him, groaning internally to himself. Oh, yes, he did wish terribly that he could swim! Before Thorin completely went out of sight, he turned and quickly swam back until he stopped nearly nose to nose with Bilbo.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t swim,” he admitted, looking down in embarrassment.

“I see,” Thorin grumbled before he curled an arm around Bilbo’s middle and pulled him flush against his chest. Bilbo squeaked. “Don’t make this harder _, bashk_ , put your arms around my neck. I suppose you will only slow us down a little this way.”

“Ex _cuse_ me,” he snapped, huffing as he wrapped his arms loosely around Thorin’s neck. He could feel the flutter of his hair on the top of his hands as the merman began swimming. He certainly didn’t swim as fast, but he still swam at a good pace and faster than Bilbo could even dream of. It was far too quite but Bilbo could not think of a thing to say to Thorin. And the merman did not seem concerned with saying anything at all. It felt as though this was going to be a long journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm definitely not an expert in Khuzdul or anything, but I really like the addition of Khuzdul words in fics so...
> 
> shuklun - literally is just beach-man  
> bashk/bashkel (both which will be used often in the fic) - (the) one/ one of all ones


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that it's been so long since i've updated this
> 
> school really got in the way and now that i'm sort of relaxed at home with literally nothing else to do i figure i should try and finish this fic. enjoy??? this chapter is chock full of thorin basically

“Do you know anything of my people?” Thorin's voice broke through the silence of the sea, shortly after they'd begun swimming. 

“Well, very little, and only what was in the books in the Greenwood--”

“Then you do not,” Thorin sounded annoyed, though Bilbo couldn’t see his face very well from this angle. “The humans know nothing of us but what they fancy to think themselves.”

“I’m human,” Bilbo snapped, not liking the way Thorin had said the word.

“I know,” the merman focused on wherever he was taking them. “It is unfortunate, _bashk_ , that you are what you are, but it as the Elders said and how the prophecy goes. A landwalker will save us.”

“Prophecy?”

There certainly hadn’t been anything of that sort in the books. What little the books had on merpeople mostly had been what they looked like and their involvement in the Greenwood. Considering it was mostly kidnapping and killings, that did not make much for them or their reputation.

“Yes, the prophecy,” Thorin did not sound as annoyed but something in his voice gave away he wasn’t pleased. “I sang it to you, did you not listen?”

“I couldn’t understand you,” he argued, though part of him tried to remember if he’d even listened. Thorin’s voice had sounded so lovely… he just could not remember any words but there had been words to the song. Hadn’t there?

He tried to shake it off.

“Of course,” Thorin said and then mumbled something lower. A curse, perhaps, though Bilbo had no idea if it was or not. Another word he could not understand, at least. “Well, I will not sing it again. It is long and it can be explained later.”

“You..” started Bilbo, coming to the realization that Thorin had definitely purposely seduced him into the water. “You did it on purpose!”

“I had to. We have come to understand humans do not like being pulled under water, it panics them. It is much easier to calm you down and lull you into the water,” he paused. “And you could not understand me.”

“You can’t just seduce people into the water!”

“I did not seduce you,” Thorin pulled abruptly to a stop, scowling at Bilbo. “I lulled you into a calm so that I could pull into the water and give you the ability to understand me.”

“Well, then I would very much like to know exactly why you _lulled_ me into the water,” Bilbo huffed. “Before we go any further wherever it is you are taking me. I think it is my right.”

“ _Bashk_ ,” he said, something flickering over his features. Thorin looked ready to explain the whole reason he’d been pulled into the sea, but a terrible sound came from far in front of them. His expression changed the moment they heard it.

Before Bilbo could ask what it was, he felt the arm around him tighten and the other slide the trident from its place on his back. Was Thorin really going to attack whatever it was while he was holding onto Bilbo?

It made his stomach roll in fear.

But instead of going forward, Thorin fell back and down toward the sea floor. His eyes were focused above and in front of them, sweeping back and forth as though he was looking for something. Or more like he knew what he was looking for, waiting for it to appear. He stopped their descent just as Bilbo felt sand brush his back, keeping them floating there.

“What-”

The hand that had been holding steadily onto his shoulder slapped over his mouth. Bilbo had to tighten his arms around Thorin’s neck and shoulder with the sudden loss of the arm.

“Quiet,” he hissed, but didn’t remove his hand.

Far above them, something came swimming quickly. Like Thorin, they had a tail (although much longer and far less friendly looking) and perhaps, a humanoid appearance but he could hardly see details from here and with Thorin practically blocking him. He felt the merman stiffen, felt his other arm raise the trident. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the creature retreating quickly as they had come.

Thorin relaxed, his hand disappearing and Bilbo felt it back around his back.

“What was that?”

“We do not speak of them,” he said, taking them back up and continuing on. “Their kind was long exiled from my people. It is not important to know right now. You wished for an explanation?”

“Oh, yes, as soon as possible, if you would please,” Bilbo nodded, although truth be told he’d rather know within the new few minutes.

For a moment, he said nothing. In the quiet, Bilbo could hear the slight movement of his fin every so often but it made so little noise he could almost miss it. Then, Thorin cleared his throat.

“Long ago, my people first interacted with humans when a threat we could not contain showed itself. We had known of their kind for some time,” his face twisted in slight anger. “They were meddlesome, killing off our food supply within their first few years by the sea. They’d even begun hunting creatures that we coexisted with. We feared they would do the same to us but we had no choice. With their help, we were able to stave off the threat and continue living peacefully. But this was long ago. During my grandfather’s reign, the Elders came to him with a prophecy. I will not tell you all of it, but it foretold of the same threat.

“Grandfather did not believe it would come back, nor would he ask for the help of any human. He further threw the prophecy into falsity by its claim that our only salvation would be a human. Many of the people followed what he believed. My father worried for the state of the kingdom, even though he too did not completely believe the threat could ever come back.”

Thorin stayed quiet, as they passed by several schools of fish although the fish only skittered out of his way. It seemed no bother. Bilbo hadn’t noticed before, too focused on Thorin’s words, but they were starting to head deeper. The light nearly gone, and while the shimmer on Thorin’s tail had not grown any less it seemed to change and glow in the darkening water.

“What did you think?”

“To choose between my grandfather and father would have been foolish,” he said. “But it mattered not, for the humans killed my grandfather shortly after he’d been told of the threat. Some of our people took it to mean that the true threat was the humans. My father dismissed it when he took the crown. Simply, we did not interact with the humans anymore.”

“If that’s so, then why have there been so many kidnappings? Why did you take me now?”

“That was also long ago,” Thorin looked grim. “Many years into my father’s reign, the threat that we had so feared before did come back. I was young, I could not begin to describe the true devastation it left or what the creature itself is. We were ran from our home. Those who believed in the prophecy, the remaining Elders and others, made it known that this had been the threat. That now, we would have to seek out the human.”

“And your father made you do it? I’m sorry, but that seems reckless, if you’re his heir-”

“My father was killed by the monster that took away our kingdom. I have been my people’s king since then,” Thorin pulled to a stop. Bilbo could barely see anything now, his eyes were not quick to adjusting and his only light source was Thorin’s tail. “I must protect my people, bring them home. Sending any other up could very well be a death sentence.”

“Oh,” he breathed in surprise. “So you _are_ the king.”

“Aye,” Thorin kept them there still. “And during the beginning of my reign, we came up with the name for our salvation _. Bashkel_.”

“What?” Bilbo frowned. But Thorin looked at him, saying nothing more. It hit Bilbo hard, like a punch to his gut. “You mean, you think _I’m_..”

“You are,” he could see Thorin’s face now, his eyes slowly adjusting to the lack of light deep down. “You have not tried to go back, or demanded that I take you back. It is remarkable, as most humans do not make it very far. Besides that, you asked why I took you.”

Thorin had paused. It took long enough that Bilbo opened his mouth to say something but then the merman began again.

“Of course, if you do not wish to help, I will take you back. Unfortunately, we are too close to where my people are residing and turning around would take too long, especially this late. Those that are exiled venture out at this time.”

“Well,” Bilbo muttered. “Well I suppose that if I am already this far, then I should just help you. I don’t believe I am what you think I am but I have a heart and I don’t know if I could leave you in good conscience.”

He might have reveled in the surprised look on Thorin’s face a little too much.

“Truly, you are _bashk_ ,” Thorin grinned then. “As I said, we are not too far from my people. But it is late and I do not wish to be caught by those that are exiled. They have seen us and may feel braver to venture into my territory. We are likely safer somewhere else. Come.”

Bilbo startled when Thorin let go of him. Had he forgotten that Bilbo could not swim? It had not been that long since they’d established that, had it? He couldn’t tell how time passed here and it worried him but there was not much he could do about it.

Thorin’s hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him forward. The action forced Bilbo to employ the little bit of swimming he knew. For his luck, Thorin happened to be strong and he only had to kick every so often to propel himself forward while the merman pulled him along.

Bilbo much preferred the other way. Only because it required less effort from the both of them! Nothing else.

To his surprise, they surfaced into a well sized cave. He’d heard of underwater caves, certainly, but he hadn’t expected to ever be in one, much less that a merman would use one. Or maybe it was for his benefit?

He started at the odd sensation of the gills disappearing from his neck, like they’d only closed over but he ran his fingers over the area and it felt no different than his normal sides. Beside him, Thorin looked about before pointing at a small shelf just out of the water.

“You can sleep there.”

“Yes, that looks _comfortable_ ,” Bilbo huffed but let Thorin push him up onto it when he struggled to climb it. “Hang on, I can still understand you, but the gills…?”

“That will last some time, but I will have to give you the ability to breathe underwater again,” Thorin waved him off but hovered about the shelf.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?”

“I will,” Thorin nodded. “But I must keep you safe as well.”

-

Bilbo didn’t know quite what it was that startled him awake, but he found himself awake in any case and the water lazily brushing against the tips of his fingers every so often. He’d curled up on himself on the small ledge. It was just barely big enough for him and while that frustrated him, at the least it was better than sleeping in the water.

Still, he had a feeling he would not be fortunate enough for a ledge again.

The sound of the water in the cave nearly lulled him back into sleep. It was peaceful, and to Bilbo, even more beautiful. If he only had his camera with him.

Anxiety seeped into him once he noticed that Thorin is not above water or really anywhere in sight. He’s certain that the merman would not abandon him. But there were far greater threats lurking about, as Thorin had told him. With a deep breath, Bilbo shifted and sat awkwardly on the ledge. His arms wrapped around his legs and he lifted his legs up against his chest then rested his chin on the tops of his knees. There were far too many frightening possibilities about why Thorin wasn’t there.

Those creatures, the ones Thorin had referred to as exiled, he’d said they might be brave enough to venture out. And if they had? What if Thorin had gone to defend against them?

There might have been too many and--

Bilbo breathed in, closing his eyes tightly. He’d not known the mercreature long enough. Not for anything but it frightened him if he could perhaps not make it back to the land, if he were stuck here until he died. Worse, if the other creatures came for him.

His eyes were unfocused, not paying too much attention when a head surfaced from the water and he startled.

Thorin titled his head once he was full surfaced from the water. He did not look any worse for wear and it looked as though he’d gotten at least some sleep. That was good, at least, or Bilbo thought. He hoped that. It would not be good for either of them if the merman were tired. After all, he had to carry both their weight.

It made him feel a little like a burden, but Bilbo repeated quietly to himself that he’d not been the one joining such things. Thorin had dragged him into it, after all.

“Is everything alright, _bashk_?”

“Yes, yes,” Bilbo smiled at him, though Thorin looked very much like he doubted it. “Are we going now?”

“Aye,” Thorin turned his head for a moment, as if he’d heard something again. This was the first time Bilbo saw the oddly shaped ears the merman had. They were larger, well, rather larger than his. He turned back his head after only a few seconds. “The waters appear safe at the moment. It should not take us long, they won’t have enough time to surprise us.”

“You think they’re going to come after us during the day?”

Bilbo stared uneasily at the water now.

“They might,” Thorin said. “The longer we wait, the more likely it becomes. Come, _bashk_.”

He held out his hand and after a moment of glaring a little at Thorin, Bilbo gripped it. Letting his feet and legs drop into the water, he kept a tight grip on Thorin’s hand as he slid all the way down into the water. Before he could process anything else, he found himself pulled under the water again.

There were apparently words to be had with Thorin if this was going to be how he handled taking Bilbo back into the water every time.

For now though, Bilbo flailed a little in surprise when Thorin kissed him the moment they were under water. It left him with no feeling of initial drowning, but he did not enjoy being so thoroughly kissed by someone he barely knew.

Not that the merman didn’t have pleasant lips _and_ he tended to be gentle about it.

Bilbo flushed, looking elsewhere after he’d pulled away. Below the water, the little light Bilbo had had disappeared. It left him with Thorin’s own luminescence and that alone. He wondered how well Thorin could see, but he had a feeling the merman could see perfectly fine in the dark and water. It just took Bilbo much longer to adjust.

“Perhaps we will show you the proper way to move about in the water once we are in a safer area,” he grumbled before wrapping his arm around Bilbo, much in the same way he had the first time. Bilbo decided he’d agree to that. It would be better. Less humiliating, in any case.

“Right, that would be better.”

Even then, Bilbo thought he felt a little disappointment about it. He hooked his arms around Thorin’s neck. This time, the merman seemingly swam much quicker than he had originally. Bilbo wondered about it quietly. Was he used to Bilbo’s burden or had he truly needed sleep?

The further they went, deeper down into the sea, it looked as though nearly everything had the same bioluminescence that Thorin possessed. Not as strong and, to Bilbo, not nearly as beautiful but it all seemed paled in comparison.

An effect of the King under the Sea, perhaps?

“Hang on.”

It startled Thorin and he slowed down slightly. Bilbo tightened his arms around Thorin’s neck nervously.

“Earlier… earlier you said that you weren’t truly the king but when I asked again you said you were. Explain that to me.”

At first, he said nothing and they continued on through the water. Far in the distance, Bilbo thought he could see ruins or something of that ilk. Was that where they were headed?

“I am the only one who can be King. I am the leader of my people. But we do not reside in the home we have for millennia. There is no throne for me. That is why. Until my people have their home, I am not anything but a leader for them.”

Thorin said nothing else after that, even when Bilbo tried starting another conversation. It seemed that was all he would get.

He took a guess that they were closing in on where they were supposed to be. More and more schools of fish swam about them, barely disturbed by the merman’s passing. They only darted out of the way long enough for Thorin’s passing by. Whenever Bilbo glanced back, the fish and sea creatures had fallen back into place.


End file.
